


you got me

by mrssreid



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Venom (Comics)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/M, Friends to Lovers, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Hydra (Marvel), I Tried, Implied/Referenced Torture, Johnny is a little shit, Liberal use of Italics, M/M, My First Spideypool Fic, Pansexual Wade Wilson, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Strangers to Lovers, Temporary Amnesia, Torture, i havent read the comics, mean hydra is mean, more tags to come I guess, peter and johnny are best friends, peter and venom love each other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2020-06-28 13:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19813090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrssreid/pseuds/mrssreid
Summary: Peter Parker goes missing.What will happen when he is found, five years later, by Deadpool, and isn't quite the same?(aftermath of peter being kidnapped and forced to bond with Venom, with a side helping of spideypool.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As i was writing the next chapter, i had a change of heart of how i wanted this story to go, so i edited this chapter to fit the new plot.  
> also, I know that wade and logan both have a strong resistance to telepathic intrusions, but I like to think that the more they trust a telepath, the easier it is for said telepath to enter their mind. Of course if they got that close to a telepath, the telepath would know that they didn’t like people in their mind, and wouldn’t be going into their minds anyway. this is why Charles can speak to them in their minds.

_ Get up, Peter.  _

_ Something is wrong.  _

The feeling of something warm trickling over Peter’s top lip combined with the harsh voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard were what woke Peter up from his pain-induced sleep. Opening up his eyes was a chore, as every small movement caused him pain. When he finally pried his dry eyes open, he took in the fact that he was sitting down in the chair that he had gotten accustomed to over the course of his stay. Almost all of his torture was done in that chair; his captors had even forced him to carve his name into the wood of the back with his fingernails. 

Peter lifted his head, searching around the room for the person that was to conduct his next torture session. His eyes scanned the dark and dingy room, but found no one. 

_ Something is wrong, Peter. _

He flinched at the words, finding them entirely too loud. “What..” he started, but cut himself off with violent coughing. His throat felt like he was swallowing razor blades. He decided that talking wasn’t something that he wanted to do at that moment. 

_ What’s going on, V? _

_ I do not know, but no one has shown up for hours. Something is not right. Try to hear what is going on.  _

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing with all his might. He heard the faint sound of footfalls above him, and the high-pitched sound of the alarms ringing. 

_ The alarms are going off. There are people above us, but no one on this floor. Heal me up, V, and we’ll see what’s going on.  _

Peter watched as the black film that was Venom envelop him and thicken around where he assumed his latest injuries were. With the added help of the symbiote, his healing factor kicked in to help him stand. His bonds snapped easily when he broke through them. They were less of a way of keeping him down and more of a reminder of ‘we’ll hurt you so much more if you try to break free.’ Peter learned that the hard way. 

He gave himself a couple seconds to get used to standing after being in the same position for so long. 

_ Come on, Peter. This is as healed as you will get for now. There is nothing I can do for the pain, though.  _

Peter sighed as he thought of trying to fight someone with the amount of pain he was in. But he soldiered on, knowing that he might never get an opportunity like this again. He walked up to the door, and ripped open the control panel were a key was supposed to be inputted to unlock the door. He gave it a moment of consideration before just smashing it with his fist. The door slid up, and Peter sighed in relief. If that hadn’t have worked, he would’ve had to kick down the door, which would’ve probably put him out of commission for a couple hours with how weak he was. Be that as it may, Peter took a moment to focus his hearing again. The footsteps were still above him, but the alarms had been shut off. No one was on his floor, but Peter still decided to be safe and travel through the hallways on the ceiling. 

The first few months of Peter being in captivity, the guards would cover his face so that he wouldn’t know the layout of the facility that he was being kept in. But after a few failed escape attempts, they realized that he was smart enough to just memorize the way that they were taking him from room to room. 

Peter went over his options quickly in his head. He didn’t know how much time he had, so he tried to think of the route out of the building as fast as he could. Truth be told, he had never actually been to the floors above him, had only ever been taken further and further underground the louder his screams became. But he figured that the layout must’ve been similar, so he didn’t think too much on it as he made his way to the stairwell. 

As he painfully climbed up the steps, the footsteps he could hear were getting louder, and he could start to make out some faint voices. 

“-no killing-”

“-it’s not fun otherwise!-”

“- _ none _ -”

Peter scrunched his eyebrows together in thought as he opened the door to what he assumed was the floor before the ground level and climbed onto the ceiling. The voices that he could make out were two that he had never heard before in his time at the facility. He pushed the thought of them away as he made his way to the first door in the hallway. Peter’s original plan was to try to get out as fast as possible, but then he realized that if he got out of there, he would need some way to prove that he had been held captive there in the first place. So when he saw a room full of computers, he decided that a short pitstop wouldn’t hurt too bad. 

He dropped down on the floor as soon as he was in the room and rushed to the nearest cluster of computers. He clicked a button to power them on, and as that was working he yanked open each drawer of the desk that the computer was rested on in search of some sort of flash drive. When he finally found one, he had to fight the urge to shout in success. He plugged it into the computer and started digging to try and find whatever incriminating piece of evidence he could find. Just as he was about to click on a file called “VIDEO DOCUMENTATION”, his spidey sense went off, and the door opened. 

“I’m just saying, Professor, this could have been done and over with  _ so much faster  _ if I could just-” a loud voice started, but was cut off by Venom shooting some of themselves off of Peter’s back, and hitting the man square in the chest, encasing him and shoving him up against the wall. Peter turned his head over his shoulder to take a look at the intruder, and his eyes were met with a masked face, of which the eyes were blown wide. 

“What the FUCK?!” the man yelled, immediately trying to struggle out of Venom’s grasp. “I’m being eating by a fucking alien! Oh my god, I’m dying!”

Peter rolled his eyes and turned back to the monitor. “Cover his mouth too, V,” he rasped out. 

“Holy shit-” the man was cut off by black slime covering his masked mouth. 

Peter opened up the file, and ignored the sounds that the suit-clad man made as he struggled to escape. The screen was blank at first, but then Peter noticed a recording of himself strapped down to a metal table. His eyes went wide as he recognized what this was a recording of: the first injection of Venom. Peter scrambled to pause the recording, not wanting to see the horror that he was sure that recording contained. Instead he downloaded it into the flashdrive and moved on as fast as could. 

_ There is a telepath. I can feel him trying to enter your mind. _

“Cover me! Now, Venom!” Peter panicked and spun around as the black slime spread over his skull, protecting his mind from intrusions. “I don’t like having my mind read without my consent,” he said, hoping that the telepath could hear him. 

“I’m sorry. I was trying to see if you were a threat,” a voice with a British accent spoke from the open doorway. Peter studied the source of the voice. He was a young man confined to a wheelchair. He was completely bald, and had a serious face. Peter’s eyes flicked to the X on his chest and made a connection. 

“P-professor Charles Xavier?” he questions, his voice shaking with the effort of speaking as well as pain. The man nodded, and his serious expression lessened a bit.

“And you are?” the professor asked, wheeling a little bit further into the room. 

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker,” Peter answered, stepping back a fraction and ignoring the way that the man attached to wall’s eyes widened even more. “If you came here for information, you’re going to have to wait your turn. I seriously need this stuff.” 

“Parker...oh, oh my,” the older man started. “I know that name. Tony Stark came to me asking to find you using Cerebro and..and I couldn’t. I’m so sorry, Peter.” 

Peter tilted his head in confusion. “Tony Stark?”

The professor nodded, misunderstanding Peter’s confusion. “Mr. Stark had almost everyone searching for you. The Avengers, the Fantastic Four.” 

“Why would they look for me?” Peter was in entirely too much pain to deal with this right now. Why would big shots like the Avengers want to look for  _ him? _

Charles looked away from Peter, a weird expression dawning his face. “How much do you remember from before your time here?”

“Uh, not much? They messed with my mind a lot. I remember just moving out of my aunt’s house and moving in with...with...” Peter let out a frustrated huff at not being able to remember people that were obviously important to him. “Well it doesn’t matter who was looking for me and why, you found me. I can get my answers later.” 

Charles looked back at Peter, grief evident on his face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Peter, but we stopped searching a few months ago. We...we thought you were dead.” 

Peter felt all the breath leave his lungs at once. He placed his hand on the desk behind him for much-needed support as he digested the information that had been thrown at him. Everyone thought he was dead, his friends, family. He felt his heart clench at the thought of his aunt. What had she thought happened to him? Who had been the one to break the news that he was gone? 

“How long have I been gone, Professor?” he asked, trying to get his breathing under control. 

He saw the telepath glance at the other man, who nodded minutely. Charles took a deep breath before saying, “Five years.” 

Peter swayed sideways due to the force of the grief that washed over him. Venom let go of the masked man in favor of trying to keep Peter upright. He had known that he had been at that horrible place for a long time, but after the first year, time was barely relevant to his life, and it was very easy to lose track of. But to lose five years, and not even notice… 

Peter felt bile rise in his throat, shouted at Venom to remove themselves from his face, and twisted to the side to heave out the meager food he had been given before his last torture session. He continued to heave after that, so violently that blood had started to come up. He felt a touch at the back of his skull, and fell asleep. 

__

“Pick him up, please, Wade,” Charles asked the tall man next to him, his eyes trained on the frail body that had collapsed to the ground when he made him go to sleep. Anyone could say what they wanted about Wade, but the ex-merc knew how to read a situation, and elected to not say anything as he picked up Peter and gently held him in his arms. 

Charles felt heartbroken for Peter. He couldn’t possibly imagine what the boy had gone through during his time at the Hydra base that caused him to have lost his memory. The look on his face when Charles revealed the amount of time he had spent there was one of true anguish that brought Charles to tears. He wiped the tears that fell away, and rolled over to the computers. Peter wanted the information that these sick people had kept about him, and who was Charles to refuse him those answers? 

He finished what Peter had started, and then made his way back to the Blackbird, where Hank was helping Wade place a still unconscious Peter into a cot that they had at the back of the jet. 

“Is everybody here?” he asked Jean without meeting her eyes. She nodded, and he signaled to Raven to start the jet. 

“What happened to him? What is that black stuff on him?” Scott asked, eyeing Peter warily. 

“It has to be some sort of alien,” Wade answered, keeping his eyes on the injured man. “It can talk to him and protect him from threats.” He lifted his eyes then, meeting Charles’. Charles got the message. He nodded to Wade, which seemed to satisfy him if his shoulders relaxing a bit was anything to go by. The taller man jerked his chin to Jean and raised an eyebrow. 

_ Jean,  _ he spoke in her mind.

_ Yes, professor?  _ She answered, looking away from Peter and locking eyes with Charles. 

_ Don’t look through his mind. We don’t know him, but he is not a threat.  _ His gaze jumped from Jean to Peter’s still figure.  _ And I’m pretty sure his mind has been forced into more than once. Let’s allow him some breathing room, okay?  _

Jean nods and turns to Scott, and engages in conversation with him. Charles nods at Wade, and the man relaxes fully, laying back in his chair and running a gloved hand over a masked face. 

_ You know that you don’t have to hide your face with us, Wade.  _

It says a lot that Wade stayed relaxed.  _ I know. But if the kid wakes up, I don’t want to give him a reason to pass out again.  _

Charles nods.

_ And, Professor, I don’t like people in my head either.  _

Charles takes the warning, and turns towards the pilot’s chair. “Let’s go, Raven.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry that it took me forever to update! it took me a while to plan out how i wanted this story to go.   
> also, i edited the first chapter heavily so if you have already read it before the publication of this chapter, you might want to go re-read it.   
> this chapter isn't super long because i wanted to have peter and wade's interaction to be in chapter three and where i left it seemed like a good cut off point.  
> [White is in brackets]  
> {Yellow is in braces}

Peter woke up to the soft hum of machinery and the beeping of a heart monitor. His eyes flickered around the room as he slowly regained consciousness. When he realized that he had never been in the room before, he felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest. When he lifted his arm, the comforting sight of Venom in his dark veins was ruined by the IVs Peter noticed were sticking out of his arms and hands. Eyes widening in fear, Peter yanked out every needle in a frenzy, the thought of  _ needtogetoutneedtoescape _ repeating in his head like a mantra. His hands flew to his face as he scrambled to rip off the oxygen mask that he was convinced was making him breathe in anything other than oxygen. He then gripped the feeding tube and pulled it out of his body as fast as he dared. The searing pain that ran down his throat as the tube finally exited his nose was almost enough to drain out the sound of another person in the room.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he heard a raspy voice say from his side. “Hey, calm down-” the feeling of a hand on his shoulder caused him to jump and shoot a web out to attach to the ceiling. Images of an electric-charged ceiling flashed through Peter’s mind, and his eyes widened once more as terror shot down his spine. He dropped down as fast as he could and clutched his elbows, curling in on himself and backing away as fast as he could. 

“I’m sorry, it was instinct I’ll never do it again. Please don’t hurt me! I’ll be good, I promise, I promise!” Begging had never helped him before, but Peter was trained to have genuine terror whenever he was placed in a new room. The last time he was introduced to a new environment, he found out just how painful high frequency noises could be. 

“-er, Peter! Listen to me, kid, I’m not gonna hurt you!” He heard the same voice say. Peter looked up through blurry eyes, searching for the source of the voice. It came from a tall man with dark black hair who had his hands extended in a passive manner. “You’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt you here.” Confusion must have been evident on Peter’s face, because the man explained further, “It’s me, Logan. You’re at the X-Mansion, in the medical wing. You are still in America, New York to be exact.” Logan kept on rattling specifics, taking a step closer to Peter everytime he stated something. 

Logan, he thought. Where do I know that name?

_ Listen to his heart. Find out if he is lying, if this is even real.  _

Peter jumped at the voice in his head, but still felt relief unfurl in his chest. Hearing Venom’s familiar scratchy voice was a consistency that he clung to for any semblance of support. 

Peter’s eyes flicked from Logan’s face to his chest as he tried to concentrate on his heartbeat for the telltale stuttering of a lie. Peter’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion when he couldn’t hear anything at all. 

When Peter had first gotten bitten and received his powers, his hearing had advanced enough that he locked himself in his room and had hidden in the closet, hands clamped over his ears. It had taken some time, and a lot of help from someone it hurt his brain to try to remember, but Peter had eventually been able to filter out the white noise of New York. All of his work had been ruined when they had started experimenting on Peter. They found out ways to heighten his senses so much that Peter couldn’t even take a breath without wishing he could crawl out of his own skin. Venom had been the one to help him through it all, that time. They had experience with being thrown into an entirely new environment and having to adapt to survive. The symbiote covered Peter’s ears when things sounded so loud his ears felt like they were about to bleed. They covered his palms when touching things made Peter want to tear his skin off. 

“I can’t hear his heart, V,” Peter explained to the symbiote, confusion coloring his tone. 

_ Then this isn’t real. Humans normally have hearts, right? _

“Right. But a hallucination? They haven’t done this in a while.” Peter looked back at Logan’s face. His mouth was moving, his severe eyebrows drawn together in what looked like concern, but Peter didn’t hear anything. He scanned the man’s face, searching for blurry edges and too-perfect skin. But the messy facial hair, lines on his forehead and the bags under Logan’s eyes were entirely too human. Peter stepped towards the other man, dropping his arms as scientific curiosity took over any rational thought. “He’s so lifelike. No way is this their tech. I wonder who they stole it from.” 

Peter turned away from Logan and faced the bed. He reached out and took the sheets into his hand, rubbing the material in between his thumb and pointer finger. “Do you think it’s some sort of hologram maybe? No hallucination I’ve ever had has ever felt this real.” Since he had his back faced to the other man, he didn’t see when Logan’s mouth snapped shut and he sucked in a sharp breath, jagged memories filling his brain. 

_ What is a hologram? _

“It’s like a projection. An image formed by lights and technology,” Peter answered distractedly, turning back to Logan, who had apparently stopped talking. His head was tilted to the side, and his eyes were calculating. 

Peter tuned back into the world around him. “What?” It sounded more like a gross gargle than a word, Venom’s voice being mixed in and distorting the sound. His eyebrows drew together in thought. “Is this going to be another psychological thing? Why haven’t you done anything yet?”

A flash of what looked like ten different emotions washed over Logan’s face. “I need to talk to someone. Stay here.” 

Where the hell would I go? Was what went through Peter’s mind as the older man spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. 

-

Charles looked up from the paperwork on his desk at the sound of the door opening. He could tell before the man even walked into the room that it was Logan. 

“Logan,” Charles acknowledged. “Why are you here instead of with Peter?” 

“He woke up,” the other man answered with a shrug, but the worried look on his face contradicted his nonchalance. Charles’ eyebrows shot to his non-existent hairline at the blunt statement, but he stayed quiet. He trusted Logan to explain, and he tried to contain his worry as the mutant said, “He ripped out every foreign object it him. Backed away from me as fast as he could, beggin’ me not to hurt him. Then he started talkin’ to himself, saying that the room was a hallucination’.” He sat down in the seat across from Charles’ desk and took a deep breath. “He doesn’t remember me, Charles. How can he know who you are, but have no idea who I am, to the point of thinkin’ I’d hurt him?” 

The older man set down his papers with a sigh. “They must have tampered with his memory, made him forget those that he knew before he was kidnapped. When I told him that the Avengers had been looking for him, he had asked me  _ why _ .

“He recognized me when he saw the X on my chest. He must not have recognized you because you didn’t have anything on you that identified who you are outside of your personal relationship with Peter. He said that he remembered his aunt, but it is likely that they didn’t tamper with his memory of her because she’s not a threat. I know that you’re basically family to that boy, but they probably reduced his memory of you to only Wolverine because you’re a threat,” Charles guessed. 

Logan nodded because he couldn’t form words. He didn’t want to be thought of only as his superhero identity. Wolverine was known for being a brutal animal that had no emotions. He didn’t want the kid that he had known since his birth being scared of him. Logan had become somewhat of a big brother figure to Peter, and the younger boy had come to him often when he had just become a superhero and needed all the help he could get. 

“What’s the black stuff in his veins?” Logan asked. 

“Peter has some sort of sentient being in him. It can cover his entire body and even extend past it. It pinned Wade to the wall when we first found Peter, and when it was wrapped around his head, I couldn’t get into his mind,” Charles explained. 

Logan considered that for a moment. “I couldn’t get through to him because he was too busy talkin’ to that thing. We need to send in someone that is used to that kind of noise, from a more personal side than we know it. I know that you thought I was going to be the best person for him to wake up to, but I have to disagree with you.

“When he started talking about a hallucination…” he trailed off, trying to get his thoughts in order. “From what little I heard, Peter has gone through something similar to me. When I was in Weapon X, they put me through a terrible virtual reality scenario in which I escaped. It was so that they knew what I would do if I actually  _ did  _ escape. It was...disorienting, to say the least. 

“I am more than willing to help Peter regain his memories, but I don’t think I should be the one to help him reconnect with the real world. Honestly, I’m still doing that myself.” 

“What are you thinking, Logan?” Charles asked patiently. 

“I’m thinkin’ that we send in Wilson. He’s good with talkin’ down freaked out people, and he can relate to him on a note that no one else on the team will be able to, “ Logan ventured, looking at his hands instead of the professor. “I’m good at navigatin’ through the minefield that’s talkin’ to Wade, but that’s only because we’ve known each other since forever. I know his voices so well that at this point they’re like actual people. Peter, though… I’m not used to his brand of crazy. It would take me forever to be able to talk to him the same way that I talk to Wade.” 

“But do you really think that he’s ready to deal with this? I trust Wade in any battle situation, but he seems a little too... _ brash _ to deal with Peter, especially with how delicate he is right now,” Charles said with skepticism.. 

“Something tells me Peter wouldn’t appreciate you calling him delicate,” Logan said, his eyes finally meeting the other man’s eyes. 

Charles sighed and ran and hand down his face. “Okay, not delicate. But he is not stable right now, and he needs our help. I don’t want anyone to ruin the chance we have to help him.” Charles rushed on before Logan could get the wrong idea. “I’m not saying that Wade will be the one to do that. Like I said, I don’t want  _ anyone  _ to ruin this.” Charles sighed before he went on, “If you think that Wade will be the least likely to do so, then I suppose sending him in could work out. I trust your judgement, Logan.” Logan had to look away from the earnest expression that the telepath wore, so he fixed his eyes back on his hands. “Wade is in the kitchen,” Charles informed him as he stood up and walked towards the door. “Oh, and Logan? Don’t make me regret this, please.” Logan nodded as he shut the door. 

-

“I need you to talk to Peter.” 

The voice made Wade jump and drop the pan that was in his hands. “Jesus H Christ, tall dark and hairy! I need to get you a bell or something,” Wade complained as he turned to face his friend. “And why do you need me to talk to the kid? I thought that was your job.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. “I already talked to the professor. He agreed that you should help him for now instead of me.” 

_ [yeah right, the professor wouldn’t trust you with a ten foot pole] _

“That’s not how the expression goes, dumbass,” Wade spoke to the voice in his head before turning back to Logan. “And why’s that?” 

“Because you’re the best option,” Logan answered simply. 

Wade snorted, “Yeah fucking right. How am I the best option? I’m, like, the worst option.” 

“You’re the best option because of what you’ve been through. You got voices because of Weapon X. Peter’s got a voice now, too. Granted his is actually alive,” Logan answered. 

_ [I’ll show you actually alive-] _

_ {He’s right. We’re not alive. We don’t even have bodies}  _

“That’s true,” Wade agreed with Yellow. “Just because we’re both crazy doesn’t mean I’ll be able to help him, Furball.” 

“He thinks he’s in a hallucination. You help me whenever I think that what is going on around me isn’t real. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Wilson,” Logan said truthfully. “I am too close to him to help him. He doesn’t know who I am, and that affects my ability to connect. He has no idea who you are, with or without Hydra tampering with his memories, and that could be really useful.” 

Wade sighed, but he could see Logan’s point. “Don’t you think me going in as full Deadpool will give the kid some apprehension of trusting me? And don’t say I can go in without the suit, because you very well know that if that kid takes one look at my face, he’ll scream and pass out.” 

“Peter doesn’t care about looks. He never has. His best friend’s roommate is made of rocks, for Chrissake!” Logan argued, but knew it was a losing battle. He rubbed at his temples and went on, “How about you just lose the suit. Keep your mask on, but no thigh holsters or katanas.” 

_ [no katanas! He might as well say walk in there butt naked!] _

“Shut up,” Wade murmured. Logan wisely stayed quiet, knowing that the comment was not for him. 

Wade thought about it. He can handle not having a suit on. He could maybe even change into his mask that was made of a softer material than his signature hard leather. Helping Peter could possibly be what proves to Charles that Wade could be trusted on more missions. 

Having made up his mind, Wade set down what he was cooking and spoke to Logan, “Fine, I’ll do it. But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming it all on you.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I.....have nothing to say for myself.
> 
> but have an extra-long chapter that hopefully makes up for it??
> 
> also, I'm going back and forth with the idea of including a Big Bad in this story, or just making it about Peter's recovery and his blossoming relationship with Wade. please let me know in the comments!! 
> 
> (it's the comments that made me continue writing, by the way, so if you want more chapters, that's how to get me to write 'em)
> 
> also, I don't have a beta, so all mistakes are my own

Peter worried at the skin around his nails with his teeth, a habit that he had picked up as a kid and never quite got over. He was growing more and more nervous the longer he was left alone in the pseudo hospital room. The gruff-looking man- _ Logan,  _ Venom helpfully reminded- had said he was in the hospital wing, but Peter couldn’t help but think he was just in a sort of dorm room.

The hospital bed, IV, and heart monitor seemed out of place among a small couch, bookshelves, and desk that looked like it was actually two smaller ones pushed together. The papers that were strewn all over the desk, along with the towers of books lined up on the far wall, which looked like a small gust of wind could cause them to come crumbling down, gave the room a lived-in feel. It suggested a sense of normalcy that simply seemed too mundane for the likes of Hydra to come up with.

The little flare of hope that had started to bubble up in his stomach was forcibly pushed down. Peter did not live in a world of hope. He lived in a world of fear, of pain, of clouded memories and sluggish days. Hope was a fool’s friend, and Peter refused to be a fool.

This was not the first time that Hydra had gotten him to believe he was safe. Peter couldn’t actually remember the first few times he had been placed in this sort of test. He supposed they used people from his Old Life-the one from before he was taken-the ones that caused pain to slice through his mind to try to picture. Venom was no help, in that regard. The symbiote could see further into Peter’s mind than he himself could, but even to them the faces of those Peter once cared for were blurred. He didn’t blame them for it, though. 

It took two years, maybe more, for Peter to come to terms with the fact that his body wasn’t only his anymore. He realized that working together caused both of them far less anguish and frustration, and the constant Voice in his head became less of a piercing scream in all-consuming silence and more of a comfort, an assurance that he was not alone. Now Peter couldn’t-didn’t want to-imagine what life would be like without the weight that slid through his veins, without the second skin that had given him as much protection as possible before the screeching alarms would pry the film from Peter’s body. 

“I don’t like this, V,” Peter grumbled, after bringing his middle finger to his forehead and tapping twice to clear his mind. He continued pacing, certain he would be able to wear a mark into the part of the ceiling he was walking on if he went on like that for much longer. 

_ Maybe we’re safe,  _ Venom suggested. Peter could hear the doubt that surrounded the words. 

“Let’s think about it, run down the list.” They had developed a system to see if the things going around them were real, the first being that if someone else was in the room, a heartbeat was a good indication that they were real. 

_ But Logan didn’t have a heartbeat. You tried to listen for it.  _

“Well yeah, but I had also just woken up after being down under for who knows how long,” Peter replied. “Anyway, second, look for warped lines or inconsistencies,” Peter flicked up a finger to keep track, “then third, find the cameras…” Peter trailed off as he heard the doorknob on one of the two doors in the room start to turn. It started to slowly open, Peter tensing up along with every inch. 

“Hello?” a vaguely familiar voice sounded from below him, dragging out the last vowel obnoxiously. “Anybody home?” 

Peter slowly dropped down from the ceiling, keeping his eye trained on the new threat in front of him. 

“....were you just on the roof? Ceiling? What the fuck ever Yellow it’s the same thing!” He closed the door behind him, but kept his front facing Peter. “So that’s still your thing? Man I am so jealous! Jobs would go so much easier if I could just crawl above everyone.” The man tilted his head, as if hearing something that Peter couldn’t, and muttered, “Job, mission, whatever, I told you to leave me alone.” It was whispered low enough that Peter almost missed it. 

_ Is he like us?  _ Venom rasped, emotion once again surrounding is words. This time, though, it was hope. 

Peter had to fight off the sneer that threatened to curl its way onto his face. He and Venom disagreed on the topic of hope. Peter allowed it, though. Strange enough, it was the alien’s hope that caused him to cling onto his humanity, something that his captors had tried to strip him of multiple times. 

_ I don’t know,  _ he replied, starting to consider the possibility himself. Maybe this was Hydra’s twisted way of letting Peter know he wasn’t the only one who had succeeded. But logic was cold and calculating, reminding him of the times he had overheard the ‘scientists’ murmur to each other, remarking how every other test subject had failed. 

Peter regarded the man. His eyes scanned the mask that covered his face, and he started to remember the other man.

“I’m Wade. Wade Wilson. Or Deadpool, which is probably what you would know me as, even before Hydra turned your brain into scrambled eggs,” the man, Wade, introduced, even going as far as to curtsy, fingers pinching an imaginary dress. 

_ The List, Peter. Remember the List,  _ Venom gently urged, and Peter obliged. He felt his eyes narrow as he tuned out what seemed to be more of Wade harshly whispering to himself, and focused on his heartbeat. When he found it, Peter was surprised by how steady it was. He had sort of expected for the heart rate of such an obviously hyper man to be at a rabbit’s pace. Then again, Hydra could’ve finally realized that the ‘people’ in the hallucinations not having heartbeats was unrealistic, and gave Wade what they hoped was a normal rhythm. 

Peter’s eyes flickered from where they were focused on Wade’s chest to his masked face. “What do you want?” he asked, refusing to let a blush rise to his face at the ragged state of his voice. Wade’s head snapped back to face Peter, and he saw the white of where the man’s eyes lay hidden behind the mask narrow. 

“I just want to talk to you. To assure you that this,” he gestured with his hand, “is real.”

“Real?” Peter tested.

“Yeah, y’know, not in a hallucination?” Wade unhelpfully expanded. Peter felt himself relax minutely, slowly inching towards the only window in the room.

_ Don’t trust him,  _ Venom hissed, startling Peter. 

“Oh, so now you’re the voice of reason?” Peter responded hotly. He felt Venom recoil slightly, the steady growl that had started growing in volume dying down. 

“So you  _ do _ talk to yourself! I gotta say, Spidey, it’s like you’re purposefully feeding my crush at this point,” Wade clapped his hands excitedly. 

Peter halted at that, losing his defensive stance completely and plopping ungracefully down on the window sill. “Spidey?” he asked. “Crush?” he added, voice going an octave higher. 

“Oh yeah, Spidey-babe, you are my absolute hero. I mean besides the whole no-killing thing, even though I’m working on that, can’t exactly taint the X-men’s image with murder if I want to be in the good Professor’s good graces, huh?” Wade spoke rapid-fire, walking over to the hospital bed and leaning on it, hooking one foot over the other and crossing his ankles. 

To anyone else, Wade would’ve been the spitting image of relaxation, but not to Peter, who had spent the last five years (five years! God, it made Peter sick just thinking about it) analyzing every eyebrow twitch, weight shift, jaw clench, of his captors. Peter could see the tense line of the other man’s shoulders, the way that he seemed to track every move Peter made. He held himself in a way that screamed ‘I’m relaxed now, but make one wrong move and I’ll have your arm behind your back in seconds.’ 

Peter flinched at the feeling of two taps to his forehead, and realized that Venom had used Peter’s hand to do so. “Thanks,” he mumbled to the symbiote, focusing back on the conversation. “So you’re an X-man?” Peter asked. 

Wade didn’t respond for a moment, seemingly committing the action to memory. He then rocked his head right to left and raised his hand in a so-so motion. “Not officially, no. But I’ll get there someday, don’t worry your pretty head about it.” It was kind of creepy how the grin he was sporting was conveyed through his mask. 

“Need to get into the Professor’s good graces, of course,” Peter snarked, then instantly cringed, screwing his eyes shut and tucking his head into his shoulder, bracing for a blow. When none came, he slowly lifted his head, brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Why,” Wade’s voice was uncharacteristically flat, “did you do that?” 

Peter bit his lip, and his eyes shot to the ground. When he opened his mouth to talk, it was Venom’s voice that filtered through. “ _ We get hurt, if we talk back. _ ” 

Wade’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Are you the thing that got all up in my business? Gotta say, bud, I need a couple dates before I let someone pin me up against the wall.” 

Peter couldn’t fight the blush that burned his face that time. It was still Venom who voiced, “ _ What’s a date? _ ” 

Peter felt the tips of his ears grow hot as he forced Venom back, “Ignore Venom.” He brought his eyes back to the blank white ones across from him. “And they’re not a  _ thing, _ don’t be rude, you should know this.” 

“That’s the thing, though, Pete. I don’t know. No one here knows what happened to you, what you went through in that shithole,” Wade responded. “We’re- _ I’m _ -not one of them. What do I need to do to prove that?” There was so much emotion in his voice, so much sincerity, that no one from Hydra had ever even tried to pretend to express. 

Peter briefly considered telling Wade about the List. Deciding to play it safe he answered, “V and I have a system, but I can’t tell you the steps.” Wade nodded like he understood, and made an effort to relax even more. 

“I’ll be as quiet as I can.” Peter raised his eyebrow at the other man, but didn’t let him try to defend himself. 

_ One,  _ Venom started to count,  _ a heartbeat.  _

Peter nodded to himself and focused on Wade’s heartbeat for a second time. Once again, he was surprised when he heard the steady  _ thump-thump _ of his heart. Peter’s eyes flicked around the man’s frame. He was looking at his nails, purposely trying to look like he wasn’t paying attention to Peter’s every move.

_ He’s either extremely paranoid, highly trained, or both,  _ Peter concluded in his head. His earlier thought of Hydra somehow picking up on his system resurfaced, forcing him to keep working down the list. 

He ripped his gaze away from Wade and started to look around the room. Any line, crack in the wall, or crinkle in the bed sheets were good indicators of if the setting around him was real. Peter stepped off the windowsill and walked in circles, studying every piece of the room, trying to see if they bent unnaturally or flickered like an image that won’t quite hold.

None did.

Peter jerked in Wade’s direction when, maybe 20 minutes later, he heard a  _ smack!  _ The man’s palm rested against his forehead. 

“What the fuck?” Peter asked incredulously. 

“Sorry, Spidey, just trying to stay quiet,” he responded, then promptly slapped his forehead again. He reared his head back, preparing for yet another smack, and Peter was across the room and holding his wrist back before he could do so.

“Stop!” he voiced frantically. “You hitting yourself makes just as much noise as you talking, Deadpool.” 

Peter didn’t hear the taller man’s response as he looked at Wade’s hand. Peter had gained many scars, not only from his time at Hydra, but also just as Spider-man. His body was riddled with them, from the small ones that cross-crossed over his knuckles, to the large, gnarled ones littered across his torso. 

But his scars had nothing on Wade’s. 

His were raised and angry, red enough to look irritated, but pale enough to signify that they had been there a while. Peter lowered his other hand, which had been holding on to Wade’s head to stop him from moving it, and brought it to his other one, so that he was holding Wade’s hand in both of his, studying it. 

_ What are you doing?  _ Venom hissed. 

“Skipping to step four,” Peter answered out loud. Step four was that if there was another person in the room, often, if they were fake, they were perfect. No blemishes, no scars, no wrinkles or smile lines. He had done so when he first saw Logan. The man had dark circles under his eyes, deep set frown lines, and scruffy facial hair. 

Peter had  _ never  _ seen someone in one of his hallucinations look so real, so  _ human _ , and that was  _ before _ he saw Wade’s skin. 

Peter flipped Wade’s hand and traced the lines of his palm with his fingertips. “Wow,” he breathed out. 

“Yeah, I know, right?” Wade’s voice shocked Peter out his thoughts. “Pretty gross. You should see my fuckin’ face! Actually, no you shouldn’t see my face, because this is closer than I ever thought you’d be, and if you saw my face you’d either vomit or run for the hills, and I don’t know if I could handle either one.” 

Peter dropped his hands, took a step back, and answered, “I highly doubt that your face would be the thing that made me run for the hills, Deadpool.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen my face, sweetheart,” Wade countered, crossing his arms and tucking his hands into his armpits.

“Having a fucking alien living inside me doesn’t scare me, ‘pool. You seriously underestimate the things I can handle,” Peter replied darkly, once again sitting down on the windowsill. 

Peter noticed the other man’s hands balling into fists, his fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. Wade made a noise akin to clearing his throat once, twice, before saying, “Ignoring how hot that was- _ yes, Yellow,  _ **_ignoring_ ** _! _ -what else do you need to do? Any other ‘steps?’” 

Peter felt his face flush, and refused to read into Wade’s statement, which was hard when it seemed that the taller man clenched his fists even tighter. Deciding to shove the  _ whatever _ that was simmering low in his belly aside, Peter nodded his head no, as he hadn’t found any cameras in his search. 

_ So this is real?  _ Venom asked hesitantly. 

Peter let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, buddy I think so. Which is- I can’t-” he ran a hand through his hair, feeling just how fucking filthy it was. Peter grimaced and pulled his hand away. He looked up at Wade, who was whispering harshly to himself. “Deadpool-”

“You can call me Wade y’know,” the other man cut him off. “Deadpool is sort of reserved for missions, and people who don’t really like me.” 

Peter supposed he was right. He did think about him as  _ Wade _ anyway. “Okay,  _ Wade _ , can I take a shower?” 

“Oh, yeah, of course, Spider-babe-” Peter cut him off in the same fashion. “If you’re Wade, I’m Peter.”

“Oh one hundred percent, Petey-pie, but I’ll just let you know now that nicknames are kinda, like, my thing, so I use them sixty percent of the time,” Wade answered smoothly. 

Peter fought the smile that was trying to appear on his face. “Okay, sure. Shower?”

***

Once Peter had showered, shaved, brushed his teeth twice, and dressed in new sweats and T-shirt, he looked at himself in the mirror. 

“Oh god, my hair!” Peter exclaimed, hands shooting to the long, tangled mess. 

_ I like our hair,  _ Venom responded, somewhat petulantly. 

“Sorry, V, but it’s so gross,” Peter answered, opening the bathroom door that connected to the room he was in. “I look like a hippie from the 70s. And like, not one of the hot ones.” 

He made a beeline towards the desk against the wall and started to open the drawers, looking for a pair of scissors. When he finally found a pair, he smirked to himself. 

“What’re you doin’ over there, Spidey?” Wade asked from his place on the bed, where he had his back propped up against the headboard and his legs laid out in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles. He was flipping through a comic book, though Peter had no idea where he had gotten it. 

Peter blinked. “Fixing this,” he answered, gesturing vaguely to his head, and heading back to the bathroom and closing the door before Wade could respond. 

Peter grew up with not a lot of money, so he was trained in the art of cutting his own hair. Though it had never been this long before, he refused to let that deter him. He gathered all his hair with his hands and brought it over one shoulder, holding onto it with one hand, and chopping it all off with the scissors in his other. He instantly felt 20 pounds lighter, and he sighed in relief. 

He kept hacking away, and even used a set of clippers he had found in the cupboard underneath the sink. However long later, his hair looked like it had five years ago: longer on the top, but short enough that it didn’t fall into his eyes and it curled naturally, and almost shaved on the sides and back. The word  _ undercut _ floated around in his head, but for the life of him, Peter couldn’t remember who had said that word to him. 

The voice of Venom distracted him from his thoughts.  _ We look like a different person. _

Peter snorted. “Yeah, thank fucking god. I couldn’t take myself seriously with that mane!” He imagines that if he could see them right now, Venom would be pouting. 

Peter collected all the hair and threw it away before turning off the lights and walking out of the bathroom. 

“Finally done, prin-” Wade cut himself off, dropping the comic to the bed and crossing his arms, curling his fingers into his hoodie again. “Wow, holy sex hair, Batman! You clean up  _ nice _ .” 

Peter blushed-and seriously, he cannot remember the last time he has blushed so much-and ran his fingers through his brown locks self-consciously. “Who’s Batman?” he deflected. Smooth Parker, smooth. 

“Unimportant, that’s who! God, I just wanna-” Wade flails his arms around before the whites of his mask close, and he tilts his head towards the ceiling. “Nevermind, ignore me, pretend I don’t exist,” Wade rushes on before Peter can respond, “What do you want to do now? You think you’re ready to talk to anyone else?” 

Peter blinks, and takes a minute to process Wade’s words.  _ Was _ he ready to talk to anyone else? He barely had a grasp on the fact that where he was was, indeed, real, and he had only let himself have a proper freakout in the shower, where no one but Venom could hear him hyperventilating. Peter didn’t know why he felt so comfortable with Wade, why he let his guard down so quick. 

Maybe it was because he was the second flawed human that he had come across since waking up, maybe it was because Wade talked to himself too. 

But Peter had gone down the List. He and Venom had checked off every box, which only ever happened when what he was experiencing was unflinchingly real. So many times had he wished the torture he was going through was fake, but the blood on the walls, the creases in his captors’ surgical masks, his own damn screams, were far too real. 

This was the first time that he had woken up in a place that wasn’t his cell that made Peter feel that same sense of realness. And it freaked him out. 

Two taps on his forehead, and Peter was back down to Earth. “Thanks, V,” he muttered, and then, louder, “No. I don’t think I can handle anyone else yet.” He looks up to see Wade nod. “But can I-” he cuts himself off, shaking his head. He was in no place to make demands. 

“Peter,” came Wade’s voice, strangely serious. “You can ask and do whatever you want. You are  _ not  _ a prisoner here, I won’t stop you from doing something you want to.” 

Peter felt all the air rush out of his lungs as he raised his chin and looked at Wade. His heartbeat had been steady, no blip or stutter that indicated a lie. Wade was telling the truth, and Peter believed him. 

“Can I- can we go outside?” Peter asked, all in one breath. 

“Oh yeah, sure, Petey! It must’ve been a long time since you’ve been out, huh?” Wade asked, back to his chipper self, as he rolled off the bed. 

“Yeah,” Peter replied,  _ not _ looking at the roll and stretch of the other man’s back muscles as he raised his hands over his head and stretched out. Once he heard the satisfying  _ pop _ of his spine, Wade hopped onto his feet and headed toward the door. 

“There are shoes by the dresser, by the way,” Wade commented, his hand resting on the handle of the door. 

Peter nodded his head no. “I need special shoes if I want to be able to stick to walls, so I’ll pass.”

Wade let out an honest-to-god giggle. “Planning on doing much wall-walking, dear Spider?” he asked, opening the door and gesturing with his arm for Peter to talk past him.

Peter rolled his eyes and lightly pushed the arm away, not fighting away the smile that was creeping onto is face this time. 

_ We like him,  _ Venom comments.  _ He’s funny and talks like us.  _

“Wow Venom, do you have a  _ crush? _ ” Peter snickers. 

_ A crush? What do we have to crush?  _

Peter sighs. “You don’t have to crush anything, V. And there is no way I’m explaining what a crush is to you.” 

_ What? Why not?!  _ Venoms demands. 

“I’ll explain when you’re older,” Peter says in lieu of explaining. 

“Ooo, does the alien have a crush on little old me?” Wade asks, voice dripping with amusement. The look on his face makes Peter imagine that Wade was batting his eyelashes under the mask. 

Peter rolls his eyes again, “Their name is Venom, Wade. Learn it, or I’ll tell them there  _ is _ something for them to crush after all.” 

Wade fans his face, “My, my, Peter, you do know how to make a man blush!” Peter resists the urge to roll his eyes yet another time, and instead looks around him. 

They’re walking down a hallway that was lined with carpet on the floor, and wooden walls that were a rich brown color. Every so often there was a door, and some of them were open, confirming Peter’s guess- that he was in some sort of dorm area. Though they were obviously walking through a residential wing, there was no one around. 

“Where is everyone?” Peter asked, mostly to himself. 

“Class,” is the only explanation he gets before they reach a wide, winding staircase, which was made of the same wood of the walls. He places a hand on the rail as he moves down the steps, loving how it was smooth and cool as he ran his palm over it. 

When they reach the bottom of the staircase, he glances to his left, and sees some sort of office, then to his right, and sees more hallways. 

It was all very dark academia. 

“This way,” Wade gently guides, both of them heading around a corner and towards big doors, one of them open, letting in a slight breeze. 

When they step outside, Peter is rooted to the spot as he takes it all in. His head swivels back and forth as he takes in all the  _ green. _ They’re stood on a sort-of balcony, looking over sprawling hills, littered with huge trees and wide, open spaces. 

Peter barely feels himself walk away from the mansion, ignoring the slightly uncomfortable feel of walking over the pebbles on the ground and the cool stone of the steps that lead down to the grass. 

He and Venom both are struck silent when he finally does step on the grass, the morning dew on the taller blades of grass sliding its way up the sides of his feet. He falls to his knees, sliding his hands through the drier parts. He closes his eyes when he feels tears start to well up, and he straightens himself, tilting his head back and breathing deep, letting fresh air fill his lungs, and enjoying the feel of sunlight on his skin. 

He lets himself flop backwards, his back hitting the soft earth. He stretches out, shamelessly starfishing out, ignoring the  _ you’re vulnerable like this, you need to remain vigilant, you need to get somewhere safe  _ for the first time in five years. 

_ We’ve never felt anything like this before,  _ Venom voices, tone awed. 

“It’s amazing, isn’t it,” Peter answers, then starts to laugh. It’s somewhat hysterical, and he's sure he looks insane, but he  _ doesn’t. fucking. care.  _

Wade, on the other hand, cares a fucking lot. His hands are once again curled into his sides, almost painful. Wade wants to reach out, wants to wipe the younger man’s tears away, wants to run his hands through his ridiculous hair, wants to pretend he’s strong enough to tear his eyes away from the strip of skin that exposed because Peter’s arms being splayed out like that made his shirt ride up. 

Before he had closed his eyes, the sunlight had hit them just right, turning whiskey-brown to amber-gold. The sunshine looked beautiful on Peter’s skin, and it brought color to his cheeks. And his  _ laugh _ . Wade felt it in his bones, felt it curl down his spine, making him decide that he wants to hear it  _ all the time _ , and Wade swears to do whatever he can to hear that sound as much as humanly possible. And  _ God,  _ he just  _ wants. _

He’s so fucked. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk to me on Tumblr it's always a fun time!! @littlepolypan


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